


Painted

by mittamoo



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Nail Painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mittamoo/pseuds/mittamoo
Summary: It wasn’t something he’d had any plans to do before he went to the store, he was just buying groceries for the dorm but he’d passed them, the bottles of nail polish under the bright lights.





	Painted

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for this fandom! hope you enjoy

Identity had always been a strange concept to Neil, it was never solid. Identity changing like he changes his clothes. One discarded for an entirely new one, new looks, name birthday. Nothing was solid. Nothing about himself was his everything carefully chosen to blur into the background of whatever setting or role they fell into next. Until now he’d never put much thought into it at all. Now he’s Neil forever he has to pick himself apart and find which parts of him were true. This time he at least he has no restrictions to hold himself back.

It wasn’t something he’d had any plans to do before he went to the store, he was just buying groceries for the dorm but he’d passed them, the bottles of nail polish under the bright lights. On impulses he snatches two colours off of the shelves and continues on to pay. Painting his nails, Neil even onto the skin of his fingers. He finds that he doesn’t care about how shaky and messy his job was as he stares down at the orange and white covering his nails. He likes it.

When Andrew sees his nails, he doesn’t say anything but raises an eyebrow. He lets Neil rest his feet across his lap while he paints his toenails anyway. Finishing his second foot he lets himself lean ack and wait for it to dry. He’s brought back from the sleepy haze he’d fallen into when he feels the brush of Andrew’s fingers along the top of his foot.

“Junkie,” he mutters, Neil snorts and lets his head fall back down again.

The next person to notice his nails was Alison. He was sat in the common area when she’d found him, eyes zeroing in on the bright colours of his nails. Her hand gripped tightly around his wrist as she brought his hand to her face, inspecting his work. With pursed lips she pulls him onto his feet and into her dorm, dropping his wrist in the middle of the room as she searches for something.

After a few minutes, Alison turns around again brandishing a small bag while she pulls out a small bottle. His heart drops when he sees what she pulled out, a small bottle of nail polish remover. Distantly he can feel the sharp tug of his mother’s hands in his hair. This is too much, he shouldn’t have done this. Almost as if sensing his thoughts Alison’s eyes seem to soften.

“Your nails are a mess Neil and it pains me so I’m going to paint them properly” She says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Almost ruthless in her efficiency, Alison strips his nails from the messy uneven coating of his nails. Quickly replacing them with sharp and precise coats of polish herself. She gives each nail two coatings of polish and once dried, gave each white nail a small orange fox paw a decoration. Then she adds yet another coat of clear polish on top of that.

“For protection,” she explains in response to his questioning look, before herding him out of the room. Neil can’t seem to fight the smile that creeps along his face.

Nothing more is said about his nails after that, Neil suspects Andrew’s glare is a large factor in the lack of questions that are sent his way from the freshmen and the others. Andrew never outright says whether or not he cares about Neil painting his nails but one afternoon he comes back to the dorms to find a small bottle of silver nail polish sitting on his desk. Alison had also taken to grabbing Neil to paint his nails when the fancy took her. Using him as a Guinea pig for new designs she wanted to try, his favourite pattern remains the first one she’d given him.

Laying with his feet resting in Andrew’s lap also becomes a familiar routine for them, Neil hadn’t painted his toenails since then but he likes the position and Andrew doesn’t complain about it so he doesn’t stop. His gaze falls onto his toenails and at the chipped remains of the orange and white polish. He feels the weight of Andrews stare as he follows Neil’s gaze to his feet.

“Yes or No?” He asks a considering furrow in his forehead.

“Yes” Neil’s response is easy, he trusts whatever Andrew is planning.

He wasn’t expecting Andrew to shift his feet onto the ground and stand to go and search through Neil’s desk drawers. The search is over quickly as Andrew returns, bottle of silver polish held in his hands and pulls Neil’s feet back into his lap. He wasn’t expecting the level of focus and care Andrew would put into painting his nails either, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make something warm settle in his chest. He’s glad that he’s going to be Neil forever if he gets to feel like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! feedback is always welcome


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